Why would anybody bring a crazy cat-lady back to life? She was drinking herself to death and torturing her cat with love, until it died. Better the cat, than a man. But, there was something sentimental in me or mental in me. Often, those two are confused.

In this case, curiosity brought the cat back to life. I was fooling with eternity on both sides of the aisle, but I couldn’t help myself.

Could I resurrect the cat-lady? Would she get a second chance at life?

I closed the door.

And the screams coming from inside would’ve caused the dead to die a second time. I wrenched the door open, hoping it would stop, only to find the most beautiful woman I had ever laid my eyes upon. Her clothes were ugly, but her body was perfect. She had a wild look in her eyes, like a feral cat.

“You are the young man who lives below me,” she said. “Is this your apartment?”

“It is.”

“It stinks. Maybe you should open a window, and hire a cleaning service, or I could clean it?”

I watched her. I had never seen a woman clean house while singing with feminine joy, like a 1950s movie.

“What’s your name?” I asked.

“Julia. What’s yours?”


“I was dead, wasn’t I?”

“Yes, you were.”

“And you brought me back to life?”

“I did.”

“Are you God?”


“Then how did you do it?”

“My Uncle’s Refrigerator. It keeps beer cool and it brings things back to life.”

She looked at me, like a blank page. I could tell her anything, and she would do it. The refrigerator took dying things, and brought them to life. I was struggling to get published. Some of my writing was good, but it needed the refrigerator. I put my never-ending manuscript into its cold confines, and it gave me a hot novel.

Julia wanted me to tell her what to do all of the time, and the responsibility was too much. I longed for an independent woman. Success, was too much. Struggle, was no longer something I wrestled with. In time, I learned how to treat Julia right and she gained some independence. Now, I make my living as a writer. I could put coal into that refrigerator and pull-out gold, but when you have everything, metal is only metal—it’s the miracle you’re looking for, and when you have a machine that makes miracles, you must use it wisely.

The End

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